


To Cure Cancer

by Zxhir



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zxhir/pseuds/Zxhir
Summary: “Pues, dispára,” She urges calmly but Maca hesitates, “Dispára coño.”The one-shot where Macarena pulls the trigger.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74





	To Cure Cancer

“I’m pregnant.” Maca blurts out like it’s nothing as she steps through the door, “So I need to change my life. And… I sold you to the police but the plan has gone to shit.” She admits bluntly. Zulema doesn’t say anything. She already knows all of this. It's not like she's surprised. 

“Your turn.” The blonde urges and Zulema’s brows shoot up in confusion,

“My turn?” She asks. Maca nods, “I don’t care.” She shrugs. Whatever she wanted from her, she had no interest in sharing it with her. 

“You have _nothing_ to tell me?” She says almost sarcastically, as if she already knows what she’s trying to make Zulema say. 

“Tell you _what?_ ” She sneers, acting as if she doesn’t owe Maca any explanations or recognitions whatsoever.

Maca purses her lips and nods, knowing the stubborn brunette won’t give in, as her eyes start wandering around the room. She spots a drawer behind her and before Zulema has the chance to stop her, the younger woman launches forward, pulls it out and as expected, finds the medication Zulema has been taking the last few weeks. 

“ _¿Qué coño haces?!”_ The older woman growls, taking a step towards her before she gets the bottle with pills shoved in her face. Without hesitation, Zulema grabs a steady hold of her throat, making a yelp escape the other woman,

“ _A ver, imbécil_...” she mutters, her voice pure venom, “My illness and my death belong to me.” 

Maca jerks herself out of her grip, spins them around and pulls out her gun, pushing the muzzle against the brunette’s throat. 

“What do you want?” She bites, “A showdown? A final duel?” 

“Is that what you’re back for?” Zulema asks, mocking the fact that she hasn’t left yet like she swore she would. It’s a mere disguise, though. There’s no denying the fact that she’s somewhat disappointed. Disappointed in herself for believing that maybe the blonde had changed her mind about leaving...

Maca suddenly pushes her away from herself and aims the gun straight at her, rage flashing through her eyes. Zulema doesn’t let a single emotion show.

“ _Yo también tengo un cáncer. Eres_ _tú_ _._ ” Maca snaps, “and I may not be a scientist, but I know there’s only one cure for this one.” 

Zulema barely blinks; not a single expression. She simply looks at Maca as if she knows her too well. As if she knows she doesn’t have the balls,

“ _Pues, dispára_.” She urges calmly, but Maca hesitates, “ _Dispára_ _coño_.”

The stress is starting to get to her. Her heart is pounding and her hands are sweaty. Her breathing is shaky and her features scrunched up in agony. Zulema’s bold insistence with the obvious intention of pushing her until her nerves are on edge is driving her completely mad,

“ _Dispá—“_

Neither of them is prepared for the loud, earsplitting bang that suddenly fills the room and both their faces drop as they realize what just happened. Maca had just pulled the trigger and she doesn’t even know if it was intentional or an accident because of how her hands were trembling. She didn’t only shoot her, she got her _good_. 

Zulema’s gaze falls to her chest and a hand comes up to feel the vital warmth leaving her body as if she’s fascinated by it, although she is most definitely just in shock. The red liquid trickles through her fingers as she touches the wound and she’s seemingly unaffected by it, until she feels that something is not quite right within. It’s not just the physical damage that hurts, her heart aches along with it, yet all she manages to express is a heavy frown. 

Macarena really shot her, right in the chest, _knowing_ it was going to kill her. Knowing there is no way for her to get to a hospital without ending up back in prison. Knowing she would die a painful death; slowly bleed out on the floor of some hotel in the middle of the Almerian desert. Knowing Zulema well enough to know that she would _choose_ death over being robbed of her freedom again and yet, she fired. 

Macarena shakes her head. In disbelief? Regret? Fear? She isn’t even sure herself. She just knows she made the wrong choice. She can feel it with every fibre of her body despite her mind being blank. She drops the gun. It hits the floor with a brassy clank. She tries to say something; to curse, to apologize, but not a single sound comes out as her lips part.

Zulema drops to her knees. Her body has been through a lot through the years. Childbirth, severe burns, air in her veins, hanging from the neck, an iron launched at her head, thousands of cuts and bruises, even a heart attack but she has never felt the force of a bullet penetrate her skin. She never expected to ever do, either, let alone a bullet fired by Macarena. This experience is completely new to her and she’s desperately trying to figure out what’s happening to her to be able to regain control, though without success. She can feel herself bleed, not just on her clothes but on the inside and it makes her feel helpless, as if survival is out of reach; as if she’s drowning on dry land.

The younger woman suddenly gains some of her senses back and rushes up to her, wraps her arms under hers, around her waist and holds her tight,

“No, no, no, _no..!_ ” The front of her own shirt gets completely soaked as the blood from the other woman seeps through the mesh fabric with ease. What has she done? “ _Jodér..!!”_

Zulema’s breathing is growing irregular, her lungs desperately trying to grasp the air she can’t seem to breathe; as if it lacks oxygen. She knows this is bad and that no matter how hard she fights against it, she won’t succeed. Her head rests on Maca’s shoulder and the blonde can feel her starting to give in. 

She wants to shout for help but she knows she can’t do that. She wants to try to stop the bleeding but she knows it won’t help. She wants to apologize, let her know that she never actually meant to hurt her, but she knows that those words are insignificant and cannot change what has been done. Besides, she wouldn’t want them to be her last. 

“It’s okay…” she croaks and Maca looks at her, surprised that she just spoke but then frowns when the words hit her,

“What do you mean _okay?!”_ She cries, 

“You—“ she begins but has to pause and gather some strength, “You may be a pain in the ass but I wouldn’t want to die.. at the hands of anyone else but you anyway…” 

“ _What do I do..?_ ” Maca whispers desperately, as if she didn’t hear a word of what she just said, “I don’t know what to do..!” 

Zulema gently shakes her head.

“ _I didn’t mean to, Zulema, I—_ ”

“ _Tranquila…_ ” she urges gently, her breathing broken, “There was no other cure for this cancer anyway. You were right.”

“No… _No_ , I didn’t mean that,” Maca sobs, “I just said it because I was _angry..!_ ” She exclaims, the regret starting to eat at her faster with every second that passes,

“ _I know,”_ Zulema whispers, barely audible, “but it’s true.” 

Maca props her up against the side of the bed so that she can lean her head back. She’s aware it takes quite a while for someone to bleed out from a single shot, but the amount of blood between them reminds her that it depends where it hits. 

“Can I ask you… for something?” Zulema suddenly asks and Maca’s eyes meet hers,

“Of course,” she exclaims, “ _anything._ ” 

“Shoot me again.” she pleads and she breaks Maca’s heart with those words. She’s in pain and she wants it to end. 

Maca did this. She knows she is responsible for the pain it is causing her and she owes her whatever she asks for, but of _that_ she just isn’t capable...

“ _I can’t do that_.” She whispers sadly, her voice on the verge of cracking.

“Come on, _Rubia_ ,” she compels, “finish what you started.” She makes it sound as if she’s angry but really she is just desperate, “you shot me once, you can do it again…” 

“Another bullet won’t kill you…” Maca says, almost apologetically. 

“Yes it will,” Zulema insists and proceeds to raise her hand and put two fingers to her head, thumb in the air, making her hand resemble a gun, “you’ll get the alien too… two birds with one stone.” she drawls with the little strength she’s got left. 

She was right, a bullet to her head would definitely kill her and it would take the tumor with it as well. That’s what she’s asking for. It is nothing but symbolism; a symbolic way to cure or defeat the cancer, but it is important to Zulema and Maca knows it. 

They exchange looks for a moment. Zulema knows Maca understands and she knows her well enough to know that she can’t deny her that. It’s the least she can do. She just needs a moment to gather enough courage.

Eventually she leans in and carefully embraces the brunette again, both arms hooked under hers to be able to hold her tight. Zulema hisses but makes no resistance. Maca takes a deep breath and places the gun at the lower back of her head, making the muzzle disappear into her raven hair. She can feel the brunette’s fingers slightly tighten their grip around her shirt as she cocks it but she can’t let it get to her. If she does she will never shoot. 

Zulema suddenly starts humming quietly and Maca recognizes the tones of the Arabic lullaby. She had often heard it in prison. It took a while for her to understand the purpose of the singing, until the day they ended up in the same cell and those mellow tones started to soothe her too. That’s what it does. It soothes and calms her down but you would only ever know if you paid enough attention to her interesting ways of coping. Perhaps Macarena has just studied her for too long…

Zulema’s body relaxes noticeably as the melodies leave her vocal chords and Maca knows that this is the right moment, but killing someone you love is easier said than done.

“I loved you, all this time, you know…” she whispers and to her surprise, the brunette nods lightly without letting it interrupt the lullaby, “but this was bound to go horribly wrong sooner or later… _I’m sorry_.” 

Before another melancholic thought can interrupt and make her hesitate, she pulls the trigger. 

The singing stops. A naïve part of Macarena wants to believe that it’s simply hidden behind the loud ringing in her ears caused by the intense blast. At least the inability to hear anything but makes it easier to deny the deafening silence that has in fact invaded the room. Every muscle in Zulema’s body goes weak; lifeless. Her arms slump to the floor and her head tilts aside, falling against her own.

She drops the gun to the floor and lets her arm join the one already wrapped around the brunette’s body and doesn’t let her go. She knows that when she does, she’s gonna be met by dull eyes and a bleak feeling invading the space between them, more blood and guilt that will never leave her soul. Zulema’s still warm figure is going to start turning cold and reality is going to hit her with full force. She doesn’t want that and as long as she can avoid it, she will.

The ringing fades and what’s left is an echo trying to tell her something she wasn’t stable enough to pay attention to before,

_“I wouldn’t want to die at the hands of anyone else but you anyway.”_

  
  



End file.
